Chapter Text
Looking at him hurt. It felt as though, a part of himself that he’d been trying his hardest to ignore, suddenly surged to the surface. Memories from the games accosted him, flashes sharp and blinding making him feel like the earth had titled beneath his feet. Even so, he could feel something burst within his chest, erupt so briskly and strongly that it felt like his ribcage would shatter with the force of his happiness.
Because standing there, just a couple of feet away, was Komi. His precious little brother in all but blood.
The soft, charged utterance of “Kirito?’’ made him want to run toward the smaller boy, scoop him up into his arms, and never let go.
Could he really have this? Could the universe truly reunite him with another member of his family with nothing to demand in return?
His body felt heavy, leaden, and slow even as his mind floated with joy. He urged himself to move, to go up to the boy and see for himself if this was real. However, just as he had taken his first step to march towards him. Komi’s eyes welled up with tears, the expression was heart-wrenchingly familiar, reminiscing about countless nights of comforting the boy as he expressed the despair and grief he’d been caught in inside the games. The boy was gone just as fast as he’d appeared, running off as fast as his legs could take him, leaving him behind.
His hand caught the wind, outstretched uselessly as he stood there, staring at the empty space where his brother once stood.
“What’s up with the brat?” Kacchan’s gruff voice sounded from somewhere next to him.
“Who was that?” Kaminari asked, oblivious to the tension.
“You’ll have to excuse my nephew Kota, he’s going through some hard times right now.” Mandalay’s eyes were trained on him, an unreadable expression twisting her face as if she was lost in thought.
He was moving before he could stop and think, feet taking him in the same direction the younger boy had fled. However, a firm hand on his shoulder halted his actions, Aizawa’s dark gaze conveying a silent message as he shook his head almost imperceptibly. “I may not know what’s going on, but if my hunch is right then you need to give him a little space, kid.” He whispered, his fingers squeezing in quiet support. “He must be overwhelmed, be patient.”
And with that he was off, directing the class towards the showers and the hot springs. Most of them, more than willing to fall asleep right then and there.
He was relieved, as he let his body sink into the water, his muscles relaxing as the warmth seeped into his skin, that most of his classmates had already gotten used to seeing his scars.
Another direct consequence of getting his skills transferred into the real world. Everything that had affected his body there, had transferred through. Even the invisible, healed injuries that he’d accumulated over the years. It made his body look like a well-worn tapestry of jaded skin.
A tiny part of him was glad for it, for it made the late hours in which he woke up disoriented from the terrors that haunted him at night easier, as he got to look down and see living physical proof of the hardships he’d lived through. Grounding him to reality.
He watched through half lidded eyes as the rest of the teens slowly settled in themselves, most of them sighing out loud as they got into the hot waters.
He could faintly hear feminine laughter sound from the girl’s side and was relieved that at least Mineta wasn’t here anymore to ruin the tentative peace they had garnered. Although he could see some of the boys’ blush as the sound. The temptation although present went unheeded.
“You’ve been even gloomier than usual, everything okay?” Kirishima’s worried tone drew his attention, and he found Todoroki’s eyes looking on quietly, just as concerned. Kacchan who’d been quietly soaking next to him turned slightly.
“It’s about that brat from earlier right?” Bakugou grunted, not bothering to pretend to be uninterested anymore.
He regards them silently for a moment, wondering just how obvious he was being in his sulking. Breathing in deeply and letting it out, he straightened from his slumped position.
“Yeah… Mandalay called him Kota, but I knew him by a different name.”
“Wait, don’t tell me that kid was in the games with you!?” Bakugou exclaimed, his anger seared into his every word. “He couldn’t have been older than 6!”
The silence that followed was enough of a confirmation.
“Wasn’t there an age limit to those things? I remember reading something about that when I was looking for it for my brother.” Kirishima’s tone held none of the bravado it usually carried.
“It was supposed to be just a game.” The words themselves were heard to utter, his throat closing up at the thought. It really was supposed to be just a silly little game, wasn’t it?
“How is he still alive?” Todoroki asked bluntly, his eyes holding a quiet sort of sadness as he met Izuku’s gaze.
“He was one of the youngest kids there… His parents had just died and the headset had been a gift to cheer him up.” His gaze drifted as he remembered the day he’d met the younger boy.
He’d been just barely recovering, beginning to feel like himself again. The dirt still smelled of freshly melted snow, and the leaves rustled the barren trees, scarcely growing as the seasons changed.
He’d heard his voice before he’d set eyes on him. The cry of terror echoed through the woods, a sharp noise cutting through the wind harshly.
His feet moved before his mind caught up, praying with his entire being that he wouldn’t arrive to an explosion of shimmering crystals. That he’d get there in time.
And by some kind of miracle or an unexpected amendment to his usual rotten luck, he did. He didn’t get to save the boy’s beast but he found pride in having gotten there in time to at least save the kid himself.
The image of the boy kneeling in the mud, tears flowing from his grief-stricken red eyes would be forever engraved in his mind.
He’d stood there, silently soaking in his own grief and hiding it away, as he looked down at the lost, devastated child before him. Something had been altered inside of him that day. He’d put away his own pathetic, pitiful feelings in order to take care of this boy before the harsh world they were stuck in destroyed every last bit of humanity from them.
He’d offered the boy a hand, helping him to his feet before giving him what he had been desperately praying for. A way to defy the odds, for even if Kirito himself hadn’t been able to resurrect the ones he’d lost, maybe he could help Komi bring his friend back to life.
A part of him wonders if the kid had somehow been the one doing the saving that day.
“Hey, you there bro?” Kirishima waved a hand over his eyes, having grown worried the longer Izuku remained silent, his gaze seemingly miles away.
Blinking harshly, he reeled in his thoughts, shaking his head as if to physically dispel them. “Y-yeah, sorry, just got lost in thought.”
He didn’t waste any time getting out of the hot-springs after that. He figured the heat was starting to get to him.
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Dinner was a considerably more buoyant affair, freshly showered, with food on the literal table, the energy was high once more.
Despite the excitement and the contagious atmosphere, Izuku’s mind didn’t stray as his gaze kept switching to the hall’s entrance to the untouched food laid out in front of him.
“You should eat, Midoriya.” Todoroki says, pushing Izuku’s bowl, still full of curry towards him.
And so should he. He thinks with a sudden urgent need to get up.
Wordlessly, he takes the bowl and stands up, heading straight for the door. He catches Aizawa’s gaze on his way and nods his head towards him, aware that he wasn’t being very patient, but caring very little about it at the moment.
He activates his search skill, looking for any sign of activity as he gets closer to the forest, and soon finds himself following a set of small footprints.
He finds him sitting on the edge of a cliff, his feet dangling dangerously as he looks up at the starry night.
The scene is painfully familiar, having found the kid in an almost identical position countless times before.
“You need to eat.” If his sudden presence startles the boy, the only sign is the tension rising in his shoulders as he folds in himself, small fingers clenching into fists as he brings them into his lap. Not sparing him a single glance.
Bracing himself he walks forward, lowering himself until he is seated right next to the boy, putting the bowl of curry between them in a silent peace offering.
“I can hear your stomach growling from here Michan, just eat it, alright?”
“Shut up.” The words are hissed out in a low, angry voice. Despite the words, hearing Komi’s voice again makes something inside of him unwind and settle. “Just shut up already.”
“Komi, what’s wrong?” He asks, hesitating now, as he watches silent tears fall onto the boy’s red cheeks. “I thought you’d be happy to see me…” He reaches a tentative hand, trying to wipe away those unwanted tears. His hand is slapped away before he can make contact, the sound is loud against the silence around them.
“You died! That’s what’s wrong.” Komi is standing now, glaring scathingly at the teen as he shouts his feelings out and into the open. “You promised you wouldn’t but you did anyway! You fought him and then you never came back!”
“K-Komi…” He can only say as sudden understanding dawns on him. “I didn’t have a choice, you have to understand, I had to fight-“
“What about me, huh?” The boy hisses, getting closer, “You promised you wouldn’t leave me! I thought you would find me, and you still never- you never-“ He’s sobbing now, harsh breath making his lungs heave as his palms turned white from the pressure of his nails digging into them.
His first reaction is to deny it, because, really, he did try, but as the thought crosses his mind, he realizes that, maybe, and he could have tried harder.
Komi had already given him all the hints, and information he needed to piece it together. A young boy with a water quirk, fostered by heroes and whose parents just died in the line of duty.
He couldn’t help but wonder if a small, tiny part of him, figured Komi would be better off without him.
“You’re…” He feels his chest constrict at the words. “You’re right, Komi. I should have been here. I’m… I’m sorry.” He expects his hand to be smacked away again, but somehow, he manages to grip the boy’s arm and draw him closer. Bringing him to his chest, reveling in the familiar warmth as the nine-year-old practically melts into him. “I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t think he can ever say it enough.
“Stop apologizing, you idiot,” Komi whispers against his shoulder, sniffing and visibly trying to calm himself down. Cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He always was quick to regret acting his own age. “Just don’t do it again.” He grumbles, holding tighter onto him.
They stay there for a while, or maybe just a few seconds. The only thing that registers to his brain, is the presence of his brother in his arms once more.
The loud rumble of Komi’s stomach breaks the tension and he finds himself laughing out loud. His first genuine laugh in a while. A red hue flares onto the boy’s face as the kid pushes him away harshly, snatching the curry bowl. Pouting adorably as he stuffs his face with the now cold curry.
Izuku ruffles his hair affectionately, unbelievably happy at being able to do so again. Enjoying the half-hearted grumble he gets in return even as he feels the boy lean into his touch almost subconsciously.
His own stomach makes a noise and he stops laughing, aware of the boy’s glare aimed his way. A spoonful of curry is unceremoniously shoved his way a second later. “You need to eat too, Baka aniki.”
They spend the rest of the evening taking turns eating the cold curry, more content than they’ve been in what feels like forever.
chapter 26 is already up
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